Who's Counting, No One's Keeping Track
by Perryels
Summary: Because days with you are endless. MiyaFuku/FukuMiya drabble collection


**Oh god. I know it's too soon to start another collection, but here I am anyway. (I'm hopeless). But I think it's time I reveal another ship of mine that I truly adore. Crack ship, okay. But I think they're precious.**

**Also, this will probably be a slow collection.**

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_**1. Miyaji bets he can stare longer than Fukui. Fukui bets Miyaji can't.**_

Staring into Miyaji's eyes is like staring out the window and admiring a beautiful day. Until you actually appreciate its perfection, then the clouds come rolling in and suddenly a storm is blowing everything out of proportion. If you aren't so lucky, including you. (But Fukui always has a way out. Also, Miyaji hates it when you compliment anything but his basketball playing skills. Fukui does the opposite.)

Yes, Miyaji's eyes are just like that. A storm. Dark and ominous, with a high chance that it's coming straight at you; and fierce, sparking with energy of a thousand lightning bolts. And filled with sarcasm. _Lots of it._

Interesting enough, in spite of how _if looks could kill then Fukui would have long been dead by now_ applied to this situation, it contrasted Miyaji's actual expression—eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up funnily, and looking so intent at concentrating that he might actually piss his pants.

Fukui chuckles at the observation. It's too entertaining.

"Oi! What's so funny?" Miyaji demands and slams both palms on his knees, clearly not looking pleased. He's sitting Indian style in front of Fukui, who is sitting with his legs apart.

"_Pffft_. N-nothing." Obvious lie. Fukui doesn't even try to hide it.

Miyaji rolls his eyes and sighs. "Weirdo. Let's just get this thing over with."

Fukui realized that Miyaji was a rather…competitive guy. Fukui remembered simply admiring Miyaji idly from afar, in the comfort of his seat on the benches when the other was practicing his shots. And the next thing Fukui knew was that he'd snapped out and Miyaji was challenging him on a staring competition. _Damn,_ and Fukui really enjoyed watching Miyaji miss his shots every now and then and whine about it for a split second. It was super cute.

"I bet I can stare longer than you," Miyaji had said.

Fukui bet Miyaji couldn't.

So here they are.

Miyaji straightens up, exhales, and looks straight into Fukui's eyes with full-on determination that he flinches at how casual Fukui's staring back at him. But he continues anyway. Five seconds of this and Miyaji's eyelid starts twitching; Fukui just can't suppress his laughter any longer.

"Stop laughing, will ya?!"

Fukui _does_ try to keep his laughing at a minimum, but it proves quite difficult, especially when he basically thinks that most things are funny. He wipes a stray tear that rolls down from his eye. "You're losing already!"

"That's because you keep on distracting me! Take this seriously, damn it!"

"Fine, okay."

Ten more seconds pass, and Fukui commends that Miyaji's doing surprisingly well. But Fukui's got something up his sleeve, and he's probably going to get 'run over by a truck' for it, but it's going to be worth it.

Fukui presses his lips onto Miyaji's.

It happens so quickly, that Miyaji barely processes it all, and by the time he has, Fukui's already making his escape. Even the blush on Miyaji's cheeks is delayed, and he only starts to really feel the heat when he's chasing after Fukui across the court.

"You lose!" Fukui yells, grinning. Unfortunately for him, Miyaji's reflexes aren't as slow as his thinking process, and before Fukui can make another step, his wrist is grabbed by the taller male. Miyaji looms over him furiously, looking as though he's going to pummel him any second. Fukui only shrugs. He isn't afraid. He never is. "Oh, what? Taking your revenge?"

"Yeah," Miyaji states, glaring at the smaller male and pulling him up by the collar, so much that Fukui's almost on his tiptoes. But he isn't shaken by the slightest bit. Miyaji pulls him even closer. Closer and closer—

And flicks his forehead.

"Ow, what the hell!" Fukui exclaims as Miyaji lets him go.

"Now, are you gunna just stand there or are you going to wait until I run ya over?" Miyaji's smirking—one Fukui returns. It's kind of like their thing.

"You're too sweet, really. Giving me a head start. I'm touched."

"You little—!" Miyaji's on his feet again, and so is Fukui.

"You still lose, you know!"

And they both chase each other around the court until the daylight is gone.

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**Will be updated as I get inspired.**


End file.
